I will interject that Jesus notably said he was not going to overturn a letter of The Law, that is the Mosaic Law AS HE, HIMSELF PRESENTED IT IN THE GOLDEN RULE, something that Hillel seems to have agreed with him on. He certainly overturned a good deal of the previous interpretation and even the letter of Scripture, including things like the permission in The Law, allowing husbands to divorce their wives, the stoning of Women who committed adultery, violating the Sabbath to do good works, etc.
I hesitate to separate “the interpretation of scripture” from “the letter of scripture,” because even deciding what the “letter” of scripture is, is an act of interpretation. My Nestle-Aland edition of the Greek New Testament bristles with footnotes indicating alternate versions of a verse, right down to different words in different copies of the “originals.” Which is authoritative? And then there's the Midrash: commentary on the Hebrew Scriptures with commentary on the commentary of the commentary. It's a centuries long discussion among rabbis, examining every single word (well, near enough) in scripture. I'd also hesitate to say Jesus "overturned a good deal of the previous interpretation." That's sort of declaring "your" interpretation (or the one you were given) is "right" and previous ones were wrong, which is, frankly, the root of anti-semitism in Western culture.
You won't want to do that. Jesus is challenging interpretations of the law which make the law a burden on others, rather than a liberation for all, and a benefit to all. I mentioned earlier that the Greek idea was chaos upon which logos (reason) was imposed, giving rise to order. The Hebraic idea was that God's creation was good, and humanity's duty was to preserve, husband, that good and maintain it. The connection between "husbandry" and being a "husband' is an intentional one. Jesus is not so much re-interpreting scripture as he's pointing out what the prophets said: the law is made for humanity, not humanity for the law. As the E&R church prayed at least once a year (on a church anniversary):
Grant that thy Church may be delivered from traditions which have lost their life, from usage which has lost its spirit, from institutions which no longer give life and power to their generation; that the Church may ever shine as a light in the world and be as a city set on a hill.
HEAR OUR PRAYER, O LORD.
Which, frankly, is what all that midrash is about. It's a matter of interpretation, isn't it?
In secular usage we speak of the “letter of the law.” I was just refreshing my memory on ex post facto law. It is banned by the Constitution, both as to Congress and the states. But the letter of the law only says “ex post facto laws” are prohibited. It says “the States” cannot pass such laws. Does that mean only state legislatures? What about amendments to state constitutions? Banned? Or not? The “letter of the law” says “states.” Does that mean legislative bodies only?
It’s a matter of interpretation, isn’t it?
And does the constitutional provision apply to the courts? Courts explicitly apply law retroactively, applying interpretations of law to the facts of each case.
There are always questions, and always arguments about how to answer those questions. And those arguments always come from a particular perspective.
Is makarioi in Luke’s Beatitudes (the title we attach to those verses comes from the Latin translation of the Greek) “blessed,” or is it “congratulations”? The argument for the latter is that the Greek word is “performative.” But that’s a concept from 20th century British philosophy. It would have been unknown and incomprehensible in 17th century England. Even today the word "performative" in common usage means an empty gesture, an act with no meaning meant merely to cover no action with the appearance of directing action.
But in the context of language discussions, performative is a category of words that direct, or more accurately, “perform,” actions.
Both in the military/hierarchical sense of orders, and in the sense of giving directions: “sit down;” “be quiet;” “go to the store.” Performative language makes things happen; the purest example being the fiat lux. The act of creation in Genesis 1 is entirely a process of performative language. Small wonder John's gospel hearkens to it with "en archane hane ho logos." "In the beginning was the word..."
So, to translate makarioi into English as “congratulations” is to try to capture the performative sense of the word in Greek. That interpretation changes tradition: but does it change the “word of God”? Yes; and no. The word of God is not the letters used (Hebraic alphabet; Greek; Latin) nor even the words used (which ones among the variants?). It is the word understood among the people.
And so my work involves reading the Bible in the context of HIV and AIDS and low and behold the same mythical norm appeared. Because groups who are more disproportionately impacted by HIV are racial/ethnic groups, in this country they tend to be the African American population and the LatinX population, LGBTQ+ persons, female - for instance globally there are more female, say in Sub-Saharan Africa, there are more females who are impacted than males - and they tend to be poor in the sense that they don't tend to have access to the various important drugs that medical care could, in fact, offer.
But it gets more complicated than that because there are Christians who have been serving in the area of HIV but the policies that apply for prevention such as ABC, abstain, be faithful and, if all else fails, use a condom really haven't been very successful. And it struck me that really it is a different kind of problem, again it's a systemic problem but it's one where the Christian approach represents the mythical norm. So it makes sense that if it's sexually transmitted just abstain, I mean that's very logical, but it's not very practical. That's basically what I'm saying.
But, of course, which “Christian” approach are we talking about? That of Sr. Helen Prejean, who ministers to prisoners on Death Row?
The Christianity of my spiritual ancestors in the UCC, who set up a hospital to treat the sick, an orphanage to care for children, a mental health care facility to help those with mental illness, and a facility for sailors on Mississippi, far down the river from home? They did that as an obligation of their faith, not so they could establish a “mythical norm.”NEWS: The U.S. Supreme Court has granted a stay of execution to Richard Glossip. The stay was jointly requested by the defense team and Oklahoma AG Drummond. This was great news to learn just minutes after I finished a visit with Rich on Oklahoma’s death row! pic.twitter.com/MTP07UnrOc
— Sister Helen Prejean (@helenprejean) May 5, 2023
I saw the ads for this, and I want to go see it, more so now that I've read this review, but is this an occasion when I can raise a question and sound, probably, a bit like an over-eager priest?
Because this, undoubtedly, is the theme of the film, the questions it raises:
First Reformed frames this in terms of sin. “Will God forgive us?” is the film’s refrain — first from Michael to Toller, then from Toller to Balq, and finally in lettering Toller places on First Reformed’s church marquee. The question grows on Toller, and its open-ended nature is what makes it especially unnerving. Who are the “us” that need forgiving? What do we need forgiving for? And when would that forgiveness happen? Would we need to ask for it? Are we all culpable?
Because the heart and soul of Christianity is not forgiveness. It doesn't begin, or end, there. The heart and soul of Christianity is God, which, yes, is another question raised by the movie:
American culture in 2018 fosters extremisms of all sorts, and First Reformed does not blink away from them. It understands, in rare and terrifying way, the mental toll of feeling like either an exile or a dangerous apostate within one’s faith community, alienated both from a caring God and from the platitudes that seem to satisfy others in the pews — of becoming convinced that if you’re not frightened then you’re purposely shutting yourself off from reality. It knows the special existential terror of trying to pray without being sure that God is listening, in a world where the nonexistence of God seems just as plausible as the alternative.I mean, in part, that question has been around since the beginning. It plagued Israel during the Exile far more than it plagues modern America today. Which is not to say it's an irrelevant question; but it's hardly a new one. Still, give the questions their due, and their space; they are not illegitimate questions; there are only illegitimate answers.
And I certainly want to avoid those answers. And let's keep this in the context the movie creates, because that context is as real and substantial as the computer keyboard I'm typing on:
In America, where churches abound, the mark of successful ministry — and, implicitly, a minister’s effectiveness at the job — is a growing, financially comfortable congregation. And given that the evangelical brand of American Christianity to which Abundant Life seems to belong is deeply dependent on the appeal of its head pastor to attract congregants, First Reformed’s dwindling congregation reflects badly on Toller.First Reformed is a small church of maybe 10 parishioners, sustained by Abundant Life, a church of 5000 that obviously attracts more people, probably because they understand the church name (quick, how many of you know what "First Reformed" refers to? Probably the 10 people in the pews of the fictional church don't know). And "Abundant Life" just sounds cheerier, doesn't it? In seminary they emphasized that we needed to find and preach the hope in the gospel; it's so much easier to be judgmental and damning, like a Scottish elder whose just found sin in his congregation, and doesn't like it (as Wodehouse memorably phrased it). Nobody wants judgment and damnation anymore; they want "uplift." And Ethan Hawks character in the film doesn't sound like he does "uplift" any better than your humble host (despite the fact the pastor of Abundant Life is "Pastor Jeffers", a coincidence I find absolutely hilarious).
Interesting, too, is this note:
The apocalypse is coming, and it’s being hastened by forces like Ed Balq, the local mogul and business owner who donates megabucks to Abundant Life and, because he is bankrolling the First Reformed 250th anniversary “re-consecration” service, demands there not be “anything political” during the ceremony.
St. Louis was the center of the Evangelical and Reformed Church. It had (has, as UCC institutions now) a hospital there; an orphanage; a mental health care facility; a seminary, and many churches including one that, in its heyday, served the carriage trade and the political class of St. Louis. The Governor of Missouri was sure to be seen there when he was in town; the Mayor was a member, everyone who was anyone in the city attended to see and be seen. I visited that church, still in operation but about as ghostly as the church Ethan Hawke pastors. It was indeed a wealthy and important place in its day. It was the only church I've seen (but not the only one in America, I'm sure) to have it's own china pattern, and it's own silver. Sterling, not plate; very heavy and impressive, and still used for special occasions. The church once employed cooks and servers just to serve the meals eaten there. It was "Abundant Life." Now it's "First Reformed." There is indeed nothing new under the sun.
Not even the apocalypse that is the driving force of the film. I was told that was coming, and from the same sources (environmental destruction) in the 'early '70's. I wrote a research paper for my junior year (high school) English class, and I still remember the title: "Pollution and Eventual Destruction of the Air And Water." Still waiting for it, but with no greater anticipation than I did then. My point being not that we aren't doing awful things to the planet, but that these are old considerations, and a few of them are flat out moldy.
The short version is that there was a shooting at Oxford High School, Michigan, on November 30, 2021. And many members of that community are still not ready to "move on."Oxford is not OK https://t.co/hHt839BYek
— Raw Story (@RawStory) May 13, 2023
“Without these controls, graduation wear could span all kinds of political, personal and special interest agendas,” Markavitch [the school superintendent] wrote.There's something to that, but this is a memorial for the dead. Besides:
“Where this became political was when you took away their voice,” said Mair Bedford, whose daughter wore orange cords to her graduation last year. “I don’t think it’s a partisan issue to want to come home from school every day.”I'm kind of hoping the kids are smart enough to swap tassels once they are seated and nobody can do anything about it. Uniformity is one thing; denial is another. So when is "political," political?
'Hectoring moralist' Josh Hawley demolished in scorching review
— Raw Story (@RawStory) May 13, 2023
Hawley's "Manhood" book is a big "whatever."https://t.co/1ZFFRgAwPA
On the page, Hawley blames “Epicurean liberals” for the failures of American men. “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity” is liberalism’s credo, he claims.Maybe yes, maybe no. Whatever.Hawley neglects to mention his source: the second verse in the Book of Ecclesiastes, authorship traditionally ascribed to King Solomon, successor and son to King David. Reflecting upon life as vanity is part of the Judeo-Christian tradition too. It is not solely pagan. In reaching for Scripture, Hawley is being – surprise – selective.
Hawley is a boob, and his ghostwriter is right there alongside him (what, you think Hawley wrote a word of this?). Ecclesiastes is one of the most profound reflections on life and purpose ever produced by human hands. It may be interpreted in many different ways, but Hawley's "interpretation" is beyond proof-texting all the way to "pathetic joke." The even funnier part is that, since Ecclesiastes is part of the Bible, it, too, is the "word of God." Josh has got some 'splainin' to do to his fundie supporters in Missouri.
I don't think, in bringing this back to "First Reformed," that Christianity is caught in the cross fire between preaching sin and guilt and damnation, and preaching the gospel of prosperity. These, two, are matters of interpretation, but they indicate that the Augustinian doctrine of "original sin" is, indeed, a tradition which has its life, a usage which has lost its spirit. It was never as central to Xianity and the gospel as "love your neighbor" or "the Golden Rule," or even Matthew 25, and it has frankly become an albatross (around the neck of Ethan Hawke's character) for the church, where it isn't a cudgel to brow beat people into "finding Jesus" (or going to hell). Abundant Life church, on the other hand, throws out the baby with the bathwater. Well, almost; they do feel responsible for First Reformed. But it's clear FR is vestigial, a relic of the past, a museum piece; an elderly relative who hasn't died yet, and must be respected if only for being elderly, and a relative. Abundant Life has gone too far one way (IMHTheologicalO), and First Reformed too far the other.
As I said, that bit about being the light of the world is hard; I'll go further and say it's damned hard.
The space between is the idea of Christian responsibility. Sin and guilt and damnation are the more common forms of Christian responsibility, but I think at best they are traditions which have lost their life, usages which have lost their spirit; and the institutions they produced, like First Reformed, no longer serve. But who does Abundant Life serve? The members? Or God?
That's a very treacherous question, that last one, and I do not pose it honestly, but to set up the contrast. The better question is: which is the church of meaning and belonging, and which is the church of sacrifice for meaning and belonging? Because the latter is the church of Christian responsibility. That is a hard reach, to be that church; but it's not an impossibility. We've seen it before. We see it now, in the endurance of Xianity, despite the decline of mainstream denominations and the moral collapse of evangelical and fundamentalist churches. Christian responsibility ("Am I my brother's keeper?") is the hard path to follow; but it's the path of the basileia tou theou. It's the path that comes from listening to the people, as well as bringing the word of God to the people; but the latter follows the former; always. Forget that, and decide the people must come to the Word, must conform to the Word rather than be told the word for their lives, and you make the word itself a false idol. Christian responsibility is a bitch! But then again, it isn't.
It's pretty much a matter of interpretation. But you have to take responsibility for your interpretation. And understand that, in the context of Matthew 25, when you are presenting your interpretation, you are presenting it to Jesus.
Which is where Christian humility comes in. Christian responsiblity breeds Christian humility; and that is truly the beginning of wisdom.
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